


A Lifetime Of Almosts Made Up In An Instant Of Always

by gingerchangeling



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-02-20 16:09:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13150227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingerchangeling/pseuds/gingerchangeling
Summary: Emma Swan, Bailbondperson and mother extraordinaire gets hired to act as body guard after she is approached by an agent. The only problems? She is supposed to accompany her charge out of the country, her charge is an actor, and that actor is Killian Jones, a man she has loathed since she met him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my CSSS gift for @thejacketandthehook on tumblr!!!! Happy Christmas!

        Emma watch with an amused smile as Henry bounced on the tips of his toes while they waited in line. 

        “Do you think that we’ll be able to see him? Do you think they will ask good questions? I wonder if we’ll be able to talk to him? I hope-”

        “Easy kid,” she said with a laugh, cutting off what she was sure was going to be a full lungful of questions. It happened when he got excited about something. And to say that Henry was excited would be like calling the Napoleonic invasion of Russia “probably not the best idea.”

        He was, simply put, having one of his longest held dreams come true. Henry had been a fan of the TV Show Underland, a show based on the book Peter Pan. When he had first told her about it a few years ago, she had been skeptical. Having read the book years before, she could only recall the creepiness of the characters, and took no enjoyment in the many film adaptations that had been produced. 

_         She had always had a personal theory that Peter Pan was actually death, which was why he would only visit when the window was open. If someone left the window open of a Victorian London nursery in the middle of winter, the likelihood of the child inside surviving had to have been pretty small. It would also explain the sort of imagination creationism that Barrie described on the island. All things are possible in death and all that. When the three Darling children are absconded with to Neverland, they are all actually becoming ill to the point of death, which was why Mrs. Darling got into such a state.  _

_         So when Henry had talked her into watching an episode with him, she was skeptical at best. But her son had wanted to share something he was passionate about with her so she had settled herself in as Henry had bounced excitedly on his side of the couch.  _

_         “They are going to introduce Hook this episode!!! I’ve never seen a show that introduces the hero so late. God its gonna be so good! And Wendy was falling at the end of the last episode and that was just before the hiatus so it’s been soooooooo long and ohmygodican’twaititsgonnabesogood.” _

_         She couldn’t help but smile as his mouth tried to keep up with his excitement. But as soon as the opening song started, it was as if someone had muted her son. She had never seen him go still so quickly. After watching him for a moment longer, still smiling at his impressionable excitement, she turned to watch as lightning flashed across the sky on screen. What appeared to be a storm on the ocean dramatically flickered between blinding flashes and a green hued darkness before a ship could be seen. She rolled her eyes as it sailed ever more closely to the camera, until it sailed right passed. _

_         The camera then panned back to follow the ship from behind, the words Jolly Roger on the stern of the ship clearly visible. Then the camera zoomed in on a figure standing at the helm, drenched with water, in a billowing black leather coat, his feet spread apart and hand braced on the wheel. For a moment, the man stayed facing away from the camera, before a horn could be heard echoing across the water.  _

_         His back stiffened even further, though she didn’t know how that was possible, then “Bloody hell.” The gravelly oath was the only warning she had before the man turned to look over his shoulder and directly into the camera.  _

_         When she promptly began choking on her spit from her sudden inhale.  _

_         “Mom ssssshhhh I can’t hear it! Go die in the other room!!”  _

_         She shot her son a look as she got up off the couch to go get some water, still trying to clear her airway of the spit she had inhaled. As she poured herself a glass, she returned to the living room to watch the man in leather, twirling dizzyingly about the deck of his ship, fighting off what looked like shadow people, before a young man was heard cackling.  _

_         “PAN YOU BLOODY DEMON!” the black clad man roared, taking a wild swing at the sky with his hand, until she registered that it wasn’t a hand, but a hook. His eyes were wide with fury and passion, water dripping from his face and his eyes the color of the swirling sea he was sailing on.  _

_         Perhaps this wasn’t such a bad show after all. _

_         So for his thirteenth birthday, Christmas, and New Year’s, all Henry had asked for was to be able to attend a special convention in Boston that had been announced by the studio about three years after the show had started. And while she had not been keeping track of the show, because she couldn’t justify wasting that much time just to enjoy a pretty face, Henry had followed it religiously. He had started dressing in darker colors, his vocabulary changed, and most astonishing of all, his confidence in himself grew.  _

_         While he had always been a friendly kid, he was also very shy, especially with kids his own age, exacerbated by an incident when he was in first grade where the other kids had teased him so ruthlessly for  not having a father that she had been called to pick him up from school because he was so distraught. And then he didn’t speak to her for a week, refusing to come out of his room, until she was forced to just leave food out on the table and retreat, hoping he would come out and eat if she wasn’t there. And while they had eventually sat down and she had told him everything and they had fallen asleep in tears on the couch together, the damage to his confidence had been done.  _

_         But she could see the changes wrought in him over the course of the few years he followed the show. “Bad form” became his bane. “Good form” became his ideal. He started opening doors and pulling out chairs for her. She caught him helping fellow classmates into their jackets. Watched him allow people in front of him in line, and stand up for older people when they took public transportation. And while Henry had never been a particularly rude child, since his worship for Underland really got into motion, he seemed to take his idol’s mannerisms as a challenge. And with the sudden jump in courtesy, Henry also seemed to gain an intrinsic internal strength, and his inherited eye roll was more often than not accompanied by an eyebrow raise the she knew he had never learned from her.  _

_         So when his fourteenth birthday had rolled around and she had managed to snag a particularly nasty skip and a large paycheck for her effort, she set to work acquiring a couple of prime tickets for the upcoming special convention. _

_         The morning of his birthday, when he awoke to a single small box from his mother, she watched the light dim in his eyes. Trying to act casually, she had just put in on his lap as she woke him up with a “Happy Birthday Kid, I have a special breakfast for you, then you have to get ready for school.” Then she had left.  _

_         His room was quiet for a moment or two, then she heard the paper ripping and the box being opened. And then for a long moment longer the room fell into silence again.  _

_         “OHMYGODMOMYOUARETHEBESTMOMEVERTHISISTHEBESTDAYOFMYLIFEOHMYGODYOUAREACTUALLYTAKINGMEIAMTHEHAPPIESTKIDINTHEWORLD!” _

        And so here they were, wandering around the hotel lobby, mingling with a mind boggling array of people from all walks of life. She had had no idea just how popular the show was. But as Henry vibrated his way across the room, she had too appreciate just what a special thing Henry had found himself a part of. So many people, all together to express their appreciation for the same thing, was almost humbling in a way. 

        She watched as Henry flitted up to a woman dressed up as Wendy, and strike up an enthusiastic conversation. Her lips lifted in a smile as she was able to assess just how much her son had grown up in the last few years, and it made her heart ache slightly to know time would only pass even more quickly. So she decided to appreciate whatever she could get while she still had it. 

        She continued to trail her son as he made his way around the lobby, until she heard the announcer state that the talks would begin in ten minutes.

        “Hey kid, hold up,” she called. Henry paused mid stride as he turned to look at her. “I’m going to run to the bathroom, and I’ll meet you at our seats ok?”

        He bobbed his head, “Yeah sure mom!” and then he was gone. 

        With a wry shake of her head, she turned and made her way towards the bathroom hallway, which was shockingly empty. And as she walked, her ever present self-awareness picked up the tread of heavy footfalls following behind her. She shifted her jacket slightly adn sped up, and a moment late the feet behind her did as well, but much more rapidly. Before she had time to think out a plan, the steps were right behind her, a hand grabbed her left arm and a low voice growled out, “Lass.”

        Without hesitation, she used the momentum of the tu on her shoulder to pivot on her heal, right arm cocked back and swinging forward even as she registered a face with dark stubble and blue eyes. And then her hand became even more familiar with it as it collided solidly with his cheek. HIs head snapped back and he staggered. Quickly, she used his distraction to rush forward, tackling him to the ground and yanking his arm forcefully behind his back, her knee solidly pressed between his shoulders. 

        “I don’t know who you are buddy, you you just decided to mess with the wrong chick.”

        “Mr. Jones! Mr. Jones!” she heard shouting and heavy steps and suddenly several security guards were rushing at her. Suddenly her brain clicked together the pieces. Mr. Jones. Blue eyes and scruff. A stranger who’s face she recognized. 

        She had just punched Killian Jones, star of  _ Underland, _ in the face then tackled him to the ground. 

        She quickly jumped back off him and backpedaled to the wall, hands up in surrender. There was chaos as the security tried to assess the damage and ascertain what had happened. One of the security guards tried to start frisking her, but with a fir grab of his wrist, a patented death glare, and a hissed, “I don’t think so buddy,” she was left alone while Killian Jones got to his feet, a bit unsteadily.

        As he turned to look at her, she could see beneath the already forming bruise on his cheek, his cheeks were flush scarlet, but it was his cloudy eyes that held her attention. He was drunk. 

        “Well lass, I’ve been hit on before, but never quit so literally.” His accent was different from what she remembered in the show, and she couldn't help but think it was such a shame that he had to ruin his brough with a drunken slur. 

        “Yeah, sorry, I work in law enforcement for a living and you surprised me,” she muttered, feeling her previous anxiety and embarrassment give way to anger at his callous and open appraisal of her body. She noticed that with her words, the security that had been milling around seemed to immediately relax.

        “No worries, lass, you can hit on me anytime you like.” He accompanied the line with a smirk she had seen on screen several times and had to admit to herself that it was even more effective in person. But she didn’t let it sway her mood. 

        “Yeah, right, I won’t be making that mistake again.” She scoffed. “Disgustingly lecherous an drunk off your ass at a convention for children.”

        She had been watching his face, otherwise she would have missed the flicker of emotion that had his eyelids fluttering, before it disappeared into a sneer. 

        “Oh it’s for children is it lass?? The pray tell what brings you here?” 

        Her temper flared and that was what she blamed for what slipped through her lips. “I am here because it has been my son’s only wish for the last three years, was to meet you. And Lord knows, I couldn’t help but want that too, because of how much your character has helped him, I figured that meeting you would give him an even better role model than your character. But I should have known that the only decent men are fictional ones.”

Her little tirade seemed to have silenced the whole entourage, his face going completely blank. Then she was approached by the man who appeared to be head of security.

        “Excuse me ma’am,” he said tentatively, and she turned her scowl on him. He swallowed audibly. “We understand that it was a bit of a misunderstanding, but we are going to have to ask you to leave.”

        Her back went rigid and she was going to try and argue, but then Killian Jones cleared his throat, clearly trying to get the attention of both of them and her temper flared again.

        “Yeah of course. Please just allow me to let my son know. He probably won’t hear his phone and I don’t want to leave without him knowing.”

        The security guard nodded and asked for her ticket, which she gave and he headed through a backdoor into the assembly hall to retrieve Henry. She heard Killian try to get her attention again, but she was having none of it. Without a thought, she turned away from him, pulling her phone out of her back pocket, and quickly, she dialed the office. 

        “Emma?”

        “Yeah, hey Graham. I suddenly found my schedule freed up for the day so I’ll take the date.”

        “Really? Ruby was happy to do it.”

        “No, no, it’s ok. I have a perfect dress for it.”

        “If you say so. I’ll see you at the station when you bring him in.”

        She snorted, “Yeah, see you tonight then.” 

        The line disconnected right as she heard, “Mom?”

        She turned to see Henry just inside the open doorway, the door blocking the mass of people and his hero from his vision. “Hey kid. I just got a call from Graham, and wanted to let you know you’ll be on your own. You text me every hour, and always stay in sight of one of the security guards ok? They are going to watch you while I’m gone, alright. Behave yourself. Ok Kid?”

        He stared at her with wide eyes while she finished. Then he nodded. “Yeah sure Mom! I’m always a gentleman. It’s bad form not to be.” She nodded, a smile on her lips against her will, at his glittering eyes. “God luck and be safe ok Mom?” 

        He heart swelled with love for her son as she pulled him into a hug, pressing a kiss to his hair as he folded himself around her. 

        “I promise I’ll come back kid,” she whispered the same promise ever time she went out for a skip, and it was the one promise she refused to ever break. He nodded against his stomach, before stepping back. 

        “I’ll keep you posted!” he said with a cheeky grin, before turning back inside, followed by the security guard, who caught her eye and nodded to her as the door closed, letting her know that the security team would keep an eye on him. 

        She watched the door swing shut with guilt settling in her belly. But it vanished in a blink as she heard Jones start to slur at her again.

        “Listen, lassss-”

        She whirled around in a second wind of fury, her indignation at the whole situation making her blood roar, softly whispering her threat so only he could hear the venom in her words.

        “No, YOU listen,  _ lad _ . My son has been dreaming about this day for over a year. SO if you ruin this day for him, if you break his heart, I swear to God, I will find you and make sure that the bruise on your face is the least of your problems. Do you understand me?” 

        His eyes were wide with shock and his mouth gaped open like a fish, wafting the smell of rum on his breath into her face. He nodded dumbly as his eyes roved over her face, before she turned and marched off down the hall, making her way to head home and ready herself to meet her skip for lunch and bring the cheating bastard in. 

        And as she left the building she could only bring herself to think one thing.

        She absolutely  _hated_ Killian Jones.


	2. Chapter 2

            As Emma pulled back into the convention hotel parking lot, she was on her last reserves of energy and patience.

            _God what a day._

            What had started out as a day she had been looking forward to for months had spiralled out of control so quickly, she was shocked there weren’t skid marks on her brain. First, she had been  completely disillusioned by the one person she thought might be a decent role model for Henry. Then she’d gotten thrown out of an event she had paid good money for, forced to leave her son alone.

            Then, when she had tried to recoup her losses by going out on the date with the perp she had been chasing, fate had decided that she would continue to have a bad day. Her perp had, of course, tried to run, spilling wine all over her dress. But then when she had given chase, in a tiny dress and heels she absolutely hated, he had managed to get the better of her, landing a punch to her face, blackening her eye,  managing to shove her down a set of stairs. She twisted her ankle, bruised several ribs, and scraped up the whole left side of her body. Fortunately, he had stayed to try and rub his victory in, and while he was mocking her ability to do her job, she managed to get her hands on a pipe laying near where she had fallen. Needless to say, her perp would have a hell of a headache come morning.

            But because she had been so scraped up, Graham had insisted he take her to the emergency room, which of course meant that he had to hover over her and try to ask her out. Again. She had soundly put an end to that discussion, but then she had had to sit in the emergency room with screaming children and a pouting boss as she watched the time tick pass the end of the convention.

            Constantly texting Henry was the only thing keeping her from exploding. He was sending a steady stream of snarky commentary on bad questions, hilarious selfies, and delighted photo ops with people dressed as various show characters. But as the time ticked past, his messages dwindled, with only the occasional _I’m good Mom_ texts to alleviate her worry.

            Once she had finally been seen by a nurse, who had sniffed in disdain at her injuries, clearly under the impression that her injuries didn’t merit ER time, she had firmly insisted that Graham take her back to where her car was parked. He had tried to convince her to go home and let him pick Henry up, but she would have none of it.

            And to top off her day from hell, she had been in such a hurry to keep Henry from waiting for her and so distracted by her injuries that she didn’t see the cop until after she had already been pulled over. The cop had naturally assumed that she was fleeing a domestic dispute, with her injuries. When she had continued to insist that the injuries were from her job, the cop had lost patience and issued her a ticket, muttering about “broads who can’t learn their lesson the first time they get the shit beat of of them.”

            And now here she was, several hours past the time the convention had ended and one person texting at a green light away from committing a serious felony. So as she slowed the car down to observe her son sitting with someone on a bench outside the hotel doors, her hackles raised without even registering. She was pulling up, jumping out of the car and limping furiously over to the two figures in no time at all.

            As she approached, Henry looked up with a delighted smile on his face. For a moment she managed to muster a smile of her own, but when the man sitting next to her son looked up and she perceived the visage of her newly acquired object of loathing, any semblance of sanity she had left vanished.

            Henry’s smile slid off his face as he watch his mother’s countenance shift from exhaustion to sheer fury, but Emma only had eyes for the expression on Killian Jones's face. His eyes looked her over, some odd emotion flickering in their depths, before his lips pulled into a smirk.

            Right as she got to them, he opened his smirking mouth, and she knew whatever was going to come out was going to be crass and demeaning. So she decided to cut out the distance between point A and the inevitable point B, and, registering the already blossoming bruise on his cheek bone, she pulled back and hit him solidly in the nose.

            “Bloody hell woman!”  
            “Mom what the hell?”

            Both spoke at the same time, Jones staggering back with his hand to his face while Henry had come to grab her arm. She whirled around, shaking out her already sore hand, willing the throbbing in her knuckles away. “Watch your language, Henry. And get in the car.”

            Her tone brooked no refusal, and Henry opened his mouth as if to protest before realizing it would be pointless, shutting it and turning to trudge the short distance to the waiting car.

            As he walked off, Emma whirled around, scowling at Jones, who was still clutching  a hand to his face as blood dripped through his fingers. “You absolutely disgust me. Not only do you drunkenly assault and hit on women at a fucking convention, but then when said women make it clear that they aren’t interested, you try to get to them through their son? How fucking pathetic are you?”

            During her tirade, his back had straightened and his face fell blank, hand dropping away. A small rivulet of blood dripped down his lip as she finished.

            For a moment, he paused, considering her words without expression, before he took a single small step forward, his eyes narrowing as his features darkened.

            “You listen here, lass. I don’t know what happened to you that made you so bitter. But I can assure you that whatever opinion you have of me, you are wrong. Have a nice evening.”

            And with that, he spun on heel and marched away, and the previous satisfaction she had felt at the sight of his bruise and blood suddenly no longer sat well within her, a creeping unease taking its place.

            But she refuse to back down, and so, not really registering the absurdity of the action, she yelled after him, “Oh yeah? Then why are you the one running away?”

            And with that she spun around, limped proudly back to her car, got in and drove off, not bothering to look behind her.

            The car was silent for a long moment, before Henry tentatively asked, “Are you ok, Mom?”

            And the slight tremor in his words, the barely detectable fear she heard, made her fury evaporate in an instant.

            “Yeah Henry, I’m, alright. Just had a bit of a fall.”

            “You go him though, right?”

            She felt herself smile at the assumption in his tone. “Of course I did kid.”

            And as Henry launched into his usual inquisition, albeit a little less enthusiastic than usual, the events of the day faded away in the balm of her son’s love. Her last thought  regarding the day was an attempt to brush aside that small sliver of doubt that Jones’s words had stirred in her and the notion that she would never have to see him again, so it wouldn’t matter if he might have been right or not.

            But you know what they say about famous last words and all that.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone left a comment about the last chapter and I got salty, so I needed to write the next chapter so y'all could see where I am going so here ya go.

“We need to sue her, Killian.”

“Regina, I already told you, no!”

“But Killian, the woman punched you in the face. Twice!” his manager huffed, her red painted lips pulled down in a scowl. “We even have the video evidence off the security cameras. She assaulted you Killian!”

Killian heaved out a long suffering sigh, rubbing his temples, trying to ignore the ache that was throbbing across his face. They had been through this conversation three times already, but his answer was still the same. He would not go after Emma Swan.

_       Killian slid out from the stage door, into the empty hallway, trying to breathe deeply. He had forgotten how quickly his anxiety attacks could sneak up on him, even with the self medicating he had taken part in throughout the course of the morning. His life had slowly been falling apart the last few years, with Milah and Liam and his hand. A lot had been hidden from his fans.  _

_       And seeing the convention room filling up with excited fans all waiting to be inspired by him and use him to find hope, it felt like he was drowning. As he stood by the door, hastily taking a swig of his ever present flask, his eye was caught by a blonde turning the corner. And it was as if lightning struck his soul as he was able to make out her profile, framed by her golden locks and highlighted by the red leather jacket he remembered so well. _

**_It was in the months after Milah had died that he first found his small modicum of peace in the local pubs he was frequenting. Robin, his head of security and close friend, had made an offhand comment that had taken root and offered him a way out of the hell he’d found himself swimming in._ **

**_“Mate, if you’re going to be in these trashy bars getting pissed every night anyway, why not just perform and get paid to be here? And you’re more likely to get free drinks anyway.”_ **

**_And it was with that throw away comment that Killian began to rebuild his sanity. It took a few weeks to put into practice, but soon enough he was giving small performances at small pubs in the area. And it was through the pure kind of joy that came from a crowd enjoying music that his soul began to heal. He found a light in his darkness, and slowly he heart began to mend._ **

**_But some days just proved too much, and one night, he could not find his way out of the black abyss of his mind. He drank far more than he usually did, since he had started performing. And during one of his songs, the lyrics, which had never meant anything to him before, suddenly struck too deeply, and he broke down right there on the stage._ **

**_Robin stepped up and managed to make some decent excuses, but the crowd was not pleased. The bar tender, however, seemed to have some sympathy, because he just handed over the full night’s fee and a double shot of rum._ **

**_“We’ve all been there, kid. It’s alright.”_ **

**_Killian couldn’t help the snort that left him at the sixty something year old calling him “kid.” But he appreciate the sentiment, and aluted the grizzled barkeep before tossing back his double, savoring the warmth that blossomed within him. He felt his eyes slowly disconnecting from his perception, a delayed understanding that Robin had once described to his son Roland as “when you are playing a video game and there is a lag time between when you press a button and what happens on screen.”_ **

**_So when two frat aged guys approached him, he was a little slow on the uptake. But once the taller of the two took his shot glass and shattered it on the floor, quieting the bar, he figured out what they wanted fairly quickly._ **

**_“The fuck was that performance, man? You some faggot? Can’t keep your shit together? What sort of trash are you? God you are fucking useless!”_ **

**_Their insults were clumsy, born of a drunken mind, as their staggering steps attested. But they were loud enough to draw the attention of a blonde woman who had just walked in the door. He couldn’t see her face, because idiot # 2 was locking his line of sight, but he heard a woman say “Emma, just leave it alone.”_ **

**_And for a moment the whole bar was still. But idiot # 2 had decided to turn towards the newcomers and make the comment, “Yeah bitch, just leave it alone.”_ **

**_The second of silence seemed to last forever, and then he heard a calm and collected voice say sweetly, “No, I don’t think so.”_ **

**_And then something happened and idiot # 2 staggered backward. Idiot # 1, who had approached him first, turned to take in the new point of interest. What followed was so jumbled in his mind that he wasn’t sure exactly what happened, but after a flurry of movement, idiot one was having his face intimately acquainted with the bar while his avenging angel put idiot # 1 in a headlock._ **

**_He glanced around, surprised that most of the patrons didn’t seem fazed, until he heard the barman say, “Christ Emma, any harder and you’ll put a dent in my bar.”_ **

**_The woman, who he could now see clearly, was looking at the bar man, paying him and idiot # 2, who was now rolling on the ground groaning, absolutely no mind. She gave a smile to the bar man, “Sorry Rodge, I’d hate to ruin the decor. I’ll just get this jackass out of your hair.”_ **

**_And just like that, the whirlwind of a woman who had marched into his life and heart like an avenging angel, turned and marched right back out into the darkness, idiot # 1 in tow like a disciplined school boy._ **

_       His avenging angel was here. He couldn’t believe it, and hurried after her in the hopes of catching her- Emma. It had been almost two years, and he could still recall her face and name, unblemished by the uncounted bottles of rum and women he had consumed over that time period.  _

_       The alcohol in his system had dulled his sense and so, without announcing himself, he went to grab her, not considering how she might react to such an action. So his shock of getting a face full of fist was profound.  _

_       And when he suddenly found himself being straddled by her, his chest pressed into the hallway carpet, her voice hissing his mistake in his ear, he couldn’t help but admire her profoundly. Then he heard Robin’s voice as his security detail found him, and her weight instantly disappeared off his back. _

_       He was helped to standing, watching from the corner of his eye as she easily  _ dissuaded _ Will, Robin’s second-in-command, from trying to frisk her. He turned, his cheeks red with embarrassment at having gotten off on the wrong foot with her so thoroughly. But as he made eye contact with her, there was no recognition in her eyes. He realized, very quickly, that she didn’t remember him at all. And so in his inebriation, he threw up the one wall he could, falling into his one liner with ease.  _

_       But her immediate response told him that she was having none of it. She tried to explain away the situation, and as his troupe of bodyguards relaxed, he felt a flare of irritation. How dare she send his life completely off its axis, and not remember him. And so his defense mechanism kicked in yet again, the words slipping from his lips before he could reconsider them. _

_“Yeah, right, I won’t be making that mistake again.” She scoffed. “Disgustingly lecherous and drunk off your ass at a convention for children.”_ _  
__And suddenly he saw himself through her eyes, and he felt a stab of deep remorse and guilt pierce his insides. That was how he came across, wasn’t it?_

_       But the disgust in her eyes was enough to push him, and his mouth continued to move without permission. _

_       “Oh it’s for children is it lass?? The pray tell what brings you here?” The moment the words left his mouth, he regretted them. But it was too late, and all he could do was watch the anger flare in her eyes. _

_       “I am here because it has been my son’s only wish for the last three years, to meet you. And Lord knows, I couldn’t help but want that too, because of how much your character has helped him, I figured that meeting you would give him an even better role model than your character. But I should have known that the only decent men are fictional ones." _

__ _ God he could feel every word she spoke as if it were a knife. He could feel the eyes of his security detail, the multitude of emotions ranging from Robin’s pity to Merida’s indignation. But it was the deep disappointment in Emma’s eyes that hurt most. _

_       And he had no idea how to answer, so when Robin spoke up, stating that she had to leave the convention, he tried to raise protest, clearing his throat to tell Robin to just forget about it. But she spoke over him, shockingly agreeing with Robin without protest, simply asking to speak with her son before she left. _

_       After Robin had left he tried to get her attention again, but she quickly dismissed him, pulling out her phone to call someone. She waited for them to pick up, before she began speaking. _

_       “Yeah, hey Graham. I suddenly found my schedule freed up for the day so I’ll take the date.” _

_       It felt as if another knife had been stabbed into his heart. Of course she had a significant other. She had a son, and though he noticed she wasn’t wearing a ring, the boy needed a father. Obviously there was a man in her life. And he wasn’t sure why that fact had struck him so deeply. _

_       “No, no, it’s ok. I have a perfect dress for it.” _

_       Of course she did. She seemed like the person who would have the perfect outfit for every occasion. _

_       She snorted, “Yeah, see you tonight then.” _

_       He wondered what sort of lame line her boyfriend had said over the line that had given her amusement, but that thought was cut short as her heard a tentative voice call from the just opened door, “Mom?” _

_       He couldn’t see the boy, but he could hear his youth, the lad standing just out of his line of sight. But he could hear every word of the quiet and tender conversation that was being held on the other side of the open door.  _

_       “Hey kid. I just got a call from Graham, and wanted to let you know you’ll be on your own. You text me every hour, and always stay in sight of one of the security guards ok? They are going to watch you while I’m gone, alright. Behave yourself. Ok kid?” _

_       “Yeah sure Mom! I’m always a gentleman. It’s bad form not to be.” The young boys words had him closing his eyes against a sudden wave of dizziness. For some reason, hearing his character’s signature line out of the mouth of Emma’s young boy drove home more potently than anything else ever had, just how many people looked up to him.  _

_       And how was he treating their trust and admiration? By drinking and fucking any willing woman who would keep her mouth shut about it afterward. He had never felt more ashamed of himself than in that moment.  _

_       “I’ll keep you posted!” came the boys final chirp before the door began to swing shut again. He noticed the look of guilt in her eyes as she watched the door close, and he again felt a need to try and fix the situation. _

_       “Listen, lass,” it sounded slurred to his own ears and he internally cursed himself for the drinking earlier. But she didn’t give him a moment to recover.  _

_       “No, YOU listen, lad. My son has been dreaming about this day for over a year. SO if you ruin this day for him, if you break his heart, I swear to God, I will find you and make sure that the bruise on your face is the least of your problems. Do you understand me?” _

_       He was in absolute shock as his mind processed the multitude of revelations her impassioned words revealed to him. He knew she was expecting an answer, but he could not summon the words as he tried to process her unintentional confessions. And then she whirled around and was gone.  _

_       Her words ran around and around in his head as he pulled himself together to go onto stage. Despite her harshness, they seemed to have dispelled the anxiety and unease he had been feeling. Now he had a goal. To be the best role model he could be. _

_       And throughout the entire time he was onstage, for every question he thought was ridiculous or repetitive, he remembered her words, how long her son had been waiting for this and how her son looked up to him and in the moments when it seemed like it was getting to be too much, he used the words like a talisman, urging himself to be worthy of the lad’s admiration. _

_       Once the convention ended, and he was finally released from meet-and-greets, photo ops and autograph sessions, his team  team led him toward the back of the building, he noticed that Robin was not among them.  _

_       “Hey Will, where’s Robin?” _

_       The man looked at him with an odd glimmer in his eye. “He’s watching the kid. Apparently, his mam got herself in a spot of trouble, had to go to the ER.” _

_       “What?” Killian whirled around, panic gripping his chest.  _

_       Will just shrugged. “That’s what I heard, anyway. The kid seemed a bit worried so Rob took ‘im outside to get some air.” _

_       Killian nodded, and without really thinking it through, turned and marched out the rear exit into the chilly air, immediately scanning the sidewalk for his mate and the lad. He found them sitting at the shuttle stop and made his way over. _

_       Robin noticed him first, and his eyebrows jumped in surprise, and Henry, the lad immediately took notice, turning quickly to look over his shoulder. Then his mouth fell open and his face went slack in shock, before he shot to his feet. _

_       “You- you- you’re Killian Jones.”  _

_       He couldn’t help the smile on his face at the boy’ starstruck expression. “Aye, lad. That I am. Do you mind if I join you?” _

_       The boy looked like he might faint or start flying, so Killian urged him to sit down before he hurt himself trying to decide.  _

_       “So tell me about yourself, lad.” He wanted to get to know the boy that had inspired such passion in his mother, and what ha started out as simple information gathering soon turned into an extremely engaging conversation. He barely noticed Robin taking his leave. Henry was a smart lad, and his opinions on the show and its various character were well formed and thought out.  _

_       But as time passed, the conversation strayed from the show to other matters, and to his surprise and delight, Henry began to confide in him. The boy expressed his concern for his mother and her job, which he informed Killian was bail bonds. (And if he felt an immense relief that the date she had mentioned was for work, no one need know by him.) _

_       He told Killian of his own personal fears and aspirations, his desire to be an author and his self-doubts. And Killian couldn’t help but feel for the boy, and following a compulsion that welled up within him, he offered Henry his phone number.  _

_       “If you ever need to talk to someone lad, and your mum isn’t the right choice, I’ll be happy to offer you what assistance I can.” _

_       The look of gratitude on Henry’s face was one he didn’t think he would ever forget, but even more surprising was when the boy practically threw himself at Killian in a tight hug.  _

_       “Thank you so much,” Henry murmured as he pulled away. “You have no idea how much this means to me. “ _

_       Killian beamed at the boy's heartfelt gratitude, a warmth sparking to life inside him, filling the empty void in his soul in a way the alcohol never had been able to.  _

_       But all too quickly, their bubble was broken as his hurricane of a mother blew in. As he took in her limping stride as she approached, he felt bile rise up in his throat at the sight of her wounds. But it was clear she was ready for war, so he fell back into his persona, arming himself for the battle ahead.  _

_       But she seemed to not even want to bother, because the next moment pain exploded through his nose.  _

_       “You absolutely disgust me. Not only do you drunkenly assault and hit on women at a fucking convention, but then when said women make it clear that they aren’t interested, you try to get to them through their son? How fucking pathetic are you?” _

_       But this time he had his wits about him, and the cold anger at her judgement had his spine tightening. He studied her face, and considered all he knew of her. And he decided that that the best way to get through to her was the direct route.  _

_       “You listen here, lass. I don’t know what happened to you that made you so bitter. But I can assure you that whatever opinion you have of me, you are wrong. Have a nice evening.” _

_       He turned away, not giving either of them an opportunity to say something in anger that might be regretted later.  _

_       But then he heard her call, “Oh yeah? Then why are you the one running away?” _

_       He couldn’t help but smile even as he wiped his lip of blood, turning to watch her march back to her car, a small yellow beetle. Henry was watching him with fear in his eyes, so he raised his hand and smiled in farewell to the boy. _

_       As he made his way back inside, his crew taking in his new appearance with shock, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Taking it out, he saw a text message from an unknown number.  _

**Unknown** _ :  _ **Sorry my mom punched you in the face. She normally isn’t like that, she just had a bad day, and you were in the wrong place at the right time. Anyway, thank you again for talking with me. It meant a lot.**

_       He smiled at the boy’s apology. Then another notification came in. _

**Unknown: This is Henry Swan, btw.**

_       Swan. Henry and Emma Swan. _

“Regina, for the last time, no. I do not want to sue, press charges, or seek any other legal action against Swan. The doc said my nose wasn’t broken and the bruises should heal before filming starts up again.” 

His manager huffed, but after a moment longer regarding him, she just nodded. “Fine, if you don’t want to talk about that, let’s discuss your rehab situation. We have a problem.”

He looked up, concerned, “What is it?” 

“Contractually, we have to have to give your team the filming breaks off, so we won’t have any security for you, and I don’t feel comfortable with that.”

“Regina, really, I honestly don’t need a team, I’ve told you th-” he cut off mid-sentence when his phone vibrated in his hand. He had it on Do Not Disturb, so that could only mean it was one of three people: Else, Liam, and most recently, Henry Swan.

**HS: Killian, I’m not sure what to do. I’m freaking out. Mom’s been shot. It’s not lethal, and her condition is steady, according to the nurse over the phone, but Mary Margaret and David are not answering their phones and I know you are still in the city and I can’t get a ride, I don’t have any money and I am so sorry but can you send someone to give me a lift?**

**KJ: Of course lad, just stay calm. I’m on my way now. Can you give me some more information?**

**HS: They said she’ll be hospitalized until next week and then she’ll have to take leave for at least a month and a half to recover. No hard work or strenuous exercise.**

**KJ: Good to know, but I meant about your location lad.**

**HS: Oh! Sorry, I’m right here (location pinned on map)**

**KJ: Ok I’m headed over now lad. Just sit tight, stay calm, and we’ll get this sorted.**

**HS: Thank you so much.**

He looked up from his phone to see Regina scowling at him, and despite the deep worry he felt in his gut, he couldn’t help the smile that came to his face as an idea popped into his head. 

“I think I may have just found a solution to that problem Regina. That and you’ll have an opportunity to satisfy your need for payback with the lovely and violent Miss Swan.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Jones?”

“I need to get the car. I’ll tell you on the way.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all- I think this may be the finest chapter I have ever produced, so enjoy it!! On another note, I promise I will be updating all my other fics. I have chapters written out, and I just need to type them up and edit them. 
> 
> As always, thank you to my beta, and I just wanted to give a special shoutout to a couple people- andypandy, kiwistreetswan, ladyciaramiggles, kmomof4, gladriel26, withheartfulloflove, Hollyeleigh, lenfaz, captain night, maggie, and cocohook38. You guys have been reading and supporting me through all this fic business since the beginning, and I just wanted to say thank you, thank you, and thank you again for all the support.   
> This chapter is for you guys!!!

           Henry Swan had always considered himself a fairly average kid. Yeah, the guy who got his mom pregnant was a deadbeat, but his mom was all kinds of awesome. So he had average parents.

And yeah, because of said deadbeat dad, he was short a parental figure. But his mom’s best friend, David, and his wife, Mary Margaret, had effectively adopted him (and his mom too, if he was completely honest) so he had the average amount of parenting, between Mary Margaret’s indulgence and David’s attempts to be cool.

And while his mom was fairly strict with curfew and checking in with his whereabouts, she didn’t set a bedtime or restrict where he was allowed to go, unless she had a good reason for it.

So his life was average.

But sometimes….. Sometimes he forgot. Sometimes life just made it too hard to remember. Like when his elementary school had “Bring Your Grandparents To School Day” and he’d had to hide in the third-floor bathroom to avoid his classmates’ teasing and the pitying stares of the adults when they saw he was alone.

Or when he could hear the pointed whispers at open house. All the other parents murmured to each other, their eyes following his mom as she walked slowly, injured from her latest skip, doing the math, judgmental looks following them.

Or when his teacher insisted that babies are delivered to parents who love each other. And when he refuted that by saying he didn’t have a father, his teacher answering with a barely concealed sneer that he was more than likely a mistake.

But sometimes….. he forgot for other reasons. Sometimes his mom would decide on a Friday morning that the weekend would be an adventure.  She would load him, some changes of clothes, several boxes of hot cocoa mix, and a mischievous smile into her old bug, and they would drive until he decided he wanted to stop. And it didn’t matter where, as long as he was awake and ready for school Monday morning.

Or when his mom arrested one of her skips at the end of the year dance. Because her hands were full, she called him over to her side, in front of pretty much the entire school, and asked if he still had the detective’s number from the last time he helped her. And he had grinned and said he did as he called the detective, who just happened to be labeled “Uncle David” on his phone. And when David had heard they were at the dance, instead of bringing his undercover detective’s car, he came in with the station Crown Vic, lights and sirens blazing, in full ambush gear, before thanking Henry for helping...again.

Or when, after his mom had picked him up, clearly noticing the tear tracks on his face, she sat him down and answered every angrily shouted accusation he threw at her, about his father, and grandparents, and being a mistake. When he had sobbed out the last one, he watched as his mother went through an alarming change. Her face had frozen over, and in a voice he had only ever heard her use just before Uncle David was telling her _it’s not worth it, Emma. If you hurt him, that’ll just give him ammo to use in court,_ she asked him who had told him that. When he repeated what his teacher said, she had closed her eyes briefly before launching into a discussion with him in regards to exactly how babies are made. And when his teacher meekly walked up to him the next day to apologize to him under the stern and watchful eye of the principal, well, he tried to not make assumptions as to why.

But really, for the most part, he just considered himself an average kid. So when he was sitting outside the convention center, waiting for his kickass mom (he never said it out loud, or she’d make him put five bucks in the swear jar- not that that was really anything because she always took him out for ice cream with the funds from said swear jar, but still) he could not believe how amazing his life had been the last twelve hours.

His mom had made him an amazing breakfast, then they had gone to Starbucks (“It's only because we are out of hot chocolate kid, and I don’t want you to start drinking plain coffee just yet. You need a few more years yet.”) And then he had been able to attend the long-awaited Underland convention, and listen to all his favorite characters as they discussed the show and life. The only imperfection in the otherwise perfect day was the fact that his mom wasn’t with him.

Her text, alerting him to her tardiness via a selfie next to the ER registration desk had him mildly freaking out. But a quick affirmation on her part that it was just Graham overreacting and that she was alright, despite the blossoming bruise on her face, soothed some of his worry. But the security guard had noticed his momentary panic and inquired. Henry gave him a muttered explanation, and sensing his tension, the guard had suggested they go hang out outside.

So sitting, chatting with a security guard whose actual, real name was Robin Hood, was just the icing on an already awesome cake. Robin seemed like a nice guy, he talked about his son Roland and footie and whether it was normal to put mustard on a corn dog.

Henry was so wrapped up in the conversation that he didn’t notice anything was amiss until Robin looked up over his shoulder, his expression sliding into an emotion that Henry couldn’t identify. Then he heard footsteps and turned to see his idol walking up to where they were sitting.

He couldn’t help but jump to his feet, the sheer shock of seeing his idol in the flesh making his limbs move without his permission. And his mouth too, apparently.

“You- you- you’re Killian Jones.”

And despite the dumb comment, Mr. Jones gave him a soft smile.  “Aye, lad. That I am. Do you mind if I join you?”

Henry wasn’t sure if he was dreaming, and he remembered reading a romance for class once and his teacher trying to explain the word swoon to the class, and he realized he might suddenly have a very good grasp on the word. And he couldn’t seem to get his mouth to work either, especially when Mr. Jones closed the distance between them, and touched him.

_OHMYGODKILLIANJONESISTOUCHINGMEICANDIEHAPPYOHMYGOD_

With gentle pressure on his shoulder and a nod back toward the bench, Henry realized that Mr. Jones wanted to sit back down.

Unsure if this was all real or not, Henry barely registered the next words, the general aura of awe Mr. Jones was exuding seemed to be interfering with his brain waves.

“So tell me about yourself, lad.”

Once the words registered, suddenly his brain seemed to kick into overdrive. “Wait, you want to know about me?”

Mr. Jones just gave another smile, “Aye, lad.”

But why would Killian Jones want to know about me?

“See lad, though it’s hard to believe, you are an extremely important part of what I do.” The swooping sensation that those words triggered in him had him feeling almost like throwing up. Henry sucked in a deep breath, trying to keep his cool, as Mr. Jones continued.

“See without people like you to give your support and inspire actors to do better, there wouldn’t be people like me. So I really should be thanking you, because otherwise, I’d have to find another job and I’m rubbish at just about everything.”

And it was that throwaway comment that had Henry looking closer at Mr. Jones’s face. And suddenly, it wasn’t Mr. Jones’s face he saw. In that flicker of uncertainty that made the cool blue eyes flick away from his own, he saw his mother’s face whenever he told her she was the best mom ever. She would laugh and just respond, “Yeah well you make it easy kid.” But her eyes would always dart away, and he knew deep down, that she didn’t believe him, no matter how much time passed.

Just like that, the star-struck awe faded away. In its place was a warm affection and respect that, rather than leaving him flustered, cleared his mind. He realized, sitting there in the cold, that Killian Jones was in many ways just as broken and lost in his life as his mom. Just as in need of someone who cared for him as him, and not as the famous actor.

“Well, while I am sure that isn’t true, I am glad you do what you do.”

He watched Mr. Jones’s eyes widen slightly, and something crossed his face. And then they talked. Mr. Jones’s was attentive and perceptive, never losing focus or becoming distracted. But as they discussed the show, a question slipped past Henry’s lips that he was sure would ruin everything.

“Mr. Jones, why were you drinking?”

He immediately clapped his hands over his mouth in horror. It had just crossed his mind when Mr. Jones had laughed, that his breath smelled like rum. And somehow it made it past the filter and out into the air where he couldn’t take it back.

Mr. Jones went still, and Henry was sure that he had just ruined everything. But then it seemed like the tension fell off Mr. Jones’s shoulders, and a sad smile crept its way across his face.

“Don’t worry lad, it’s alright.” Henry let out a slow breath, the queasy feeling from before having made a rather abrupt appearance. “But in return, you need to do something for me.”

Henry gave a shaky nod, “Okay…”

“I insist you call me Killian. There hasn’t been a Mr. Jones in a very long time.”

There was something in those words that Henry couldn’t decipher. “Yeah, okay... Killian.”

Killian smiled softly again, before launching into his tale. Henry couldn’t believe some of the things that Killian told him, how he and his brother were orphans, what the accident and the loss of his love had done to him, and how he was slowly pulling himself out of the hole he had dug for himself.

“So, that’s actually the reason for the extended break this season. I’m finally taking responsibility for myself and going back to Ireland to undergo rehab for my alcoholism. But please don’t let that get out.”

Henry sat in silence for a minute, processing everything that he had just been told, noticing for the first time that Robin was gone and how late it was getting. Then he finally found the words.

“It’s kinda funny actually,” he said softly, “but you and my mom have fairly similar stories. She was an orphan too.” He heard Killian suck in a breath.

“And she is actually a lot like you. Well, actually you and your character. I think that’s originally why I got so invested in it. Because what she does for a living is dangerous too, and I guess I always liked the idea of a guaranteed happy ending. If Hook came back to his home safe after each of his adventures, my mom was sure to come back too.”

“Lad, what is it that your mom does?”

“She’s a bail bondsperson. And she is really good at her job. But…” he trailed off, not wanting to unload his worries on someone who clearly already had a lot going on.

But then Killian slid a little closer and very casually draped his arm across Henry’s shoulders, “But what lad?”

And just like that, a lifetime of worries he couldn’t voice came pouring out. Fears he couldn’t tell his mom because she would feel guilty. Doubts he couldn’t discuss with Mary Margret or David because they would just assure him everything would be fine. And as he spoke, Killian never once made him feel foolish or naive. When he would hesitate, Killian would offer a gentle word of encouragement.

_This must be what having a best friend feels like._

It came out that his mom was the reason for the bruise on his face, and Henry had felt mortified, but Killian had explained the misunderstanding, laughing off Henry's concern with a light shrug, telling Henry that it was mostly his own fault.

Once his stream of consciousness slowed to an end, Henry felt a little exposed, so he was surprised when Killian shifted a bit and held out what Henry knew was a prosthetic hand.

“If you ever need to talk to someone lad, and your mum isn’t the right choice, I’ll be happy to offer you what assistance I can.”

With numb fingers, Henry opened his phone and handed it over to Killian, who deftly put his number into the contact info, under KJ.  

As Killian handed Henry back the phone, the look in his eye told Henry that the offer was completely genuine. A wave of gratitude unlike anything he had felt before flowed over him, and he couldn’t contain himself. He threw his arms around the man who had become more than an idol to him, hugging him tightly.

“Thank you so much,” Henry murmured as he pulled away. “You have no idea how much this means to me. “

Killian beamed, and for a moment, all was right with his life. And then he heard his mom’s car pull up.

What he expected to be an excited reunion was not what he got. As his mom got out of the car, he immediately noticed that she was favoring one side of her torso and she was limping. And her face was scratched to hell, in addition to the bruise forming over her eye. But what had the smile sliding off his face was the look of absolute fury in her eyes.

_Uh oh._

He could only watch as his mom came in and punched his new best friend in the face. Again.

“Mom, what the hell?”

He tried not to curse, as a rule, but he was so shocked and not a little bit angry. But then his mother turned to look at him, her face cold, “Watch your language, Henry. And get in the car.”

And her voice told him that he had no choice. So he turned and slumped his way back to the car. Watching through the window, he saw his mother and Killian exchange words, before Killian turned to walk away. A weight settled in his belly. It was all over. Killian would never want to talk to him again.

But as his mom turned to limp back to the car, he watched Killian turn, and when the older man caught his eye, Killian raised his hand and gave a blood-smeared smile, his message to Henry as clear as day.

_My offer still stands lad._

He was relieved, but he was also very aware of his mom’s icy presence next to him. He held his tongue for a moment before he heard her hiss slightly in discomfort.

“Are you ok, Mom?”

“Yeah Henry, I’m, alright. Just had a bit of a fall.”

“You go him though, right?”

His question got a smile out of her, “Of course I did kid.”

Henry nodded, quietly fishing for information before he figured out why she was in such a rare mood. And when he was sure that his mom wasn’t really paying attention, he pulled out his phone to text Killian.

**HS: Sorry my mom punched you in the face. She normally isn’t like that, she just had a bad day, and you were in the wrong place at the right time. Anyway, thank you again for talking with me. It meant a lot.**

And then he thought that perhaps there might not be enough context clues in his text, so he quickly followed up.

**HS: This is Henry Swan, btw.**

**KJ: I figured as much lad. And think nothing of it, just remind me to not get on your mother’s bad side again.**

**HS: LOL, if it makes you feel any better, it wasn’t you. Apparently, her skip was worse than usual, and on top of that, her boss asked her out again (long story) and started to pout when she said no, and then she got a speeding ticket.**

**HS: And she’s had a crush on our character for as long as I’ve been watching the show.**

**HS: But please don’t tell her I ever told you that. I want to at least get a girlfriend before I die.**

**KJ: Does she indeed? How interesting….. But have no fear lad, your secret is safe with me.**

The next few days passed by in a blur, catching up with school work and getting ready for the school break. But through it all, Henry suddenly had a talisman against the dark thoughts that sometimes plagued him. Killian had taken to sending him dumb one-line jokes and little trivia snippets about sailing. And while it wasn’t much, each little text said that Killian was thinking about him.

So when the landlord, a cruel woman by the name of Cora, marched up to the apartment to inform his mom that the rent was increasing the same day the ER bill came in, he had someone to turn to, with money worries that he shouldn’t know about. And Killian had been extremely supportive, offering ideas and advice.

But then his phone rang with a number he didn’t know, and the voice at the other end of the line informed him that his mom was in the hospital, that she had been shot, and suddenly Henry had never been more grateful for his new friend.

**HS: Killian, I’m not sure what to do. I’m freaking out. Mom’s been shot. It’s not lethal, and her condition is steady, according to the nurse over the phone, but Mary Margaret and David are not answering their phones, and I know you are still in the city, and I can’t get a ride, I don’t have any money, and I am so sorry but can you send someone to give me a lift?**

**KJ: Of course lad, just stay calm. I’m on my way now. Can you give me some more information?**

**HS: They said she’ll be hospitalized until next week and then she’ll have to take leave for at least a month and a half to recover. No hard work or strenuous exercise.**

**KJ: Good to know, but I meant about your location lad.**

**HS: Oh! Sorry, I’m right here (location pinned on map)**

**KJ: Ok I’m headed over now, lad. Just sit tight, stay calm, and we’ll get this sorted.**

**HS: Thank you so much.**

Henry was close to tears, of fear, of relief, adrenaline coursing through him, making his whole body tremble as he tried not to let his thoughts spiral out of control.

**KJ: Hey lad- did you know that when we were filming season two when I had to do that falling scene, my prosthetic got caught in the rigging… So in the middle of the scene, my hand falls off, and the whole studio started screaming. And all Rob could do was laugh hysterically, and he asked if I “needed a hand.”**

The story was just so monumentally unexpected and absurd that Henry couldn’t help but huff out a laugh. He knew that was exactly why Killian had told him, but it was enough to distract his mind from the present. For the next fifteen minutes, Killian sent him absurd stories while Henry waited for them to arrive.

And when a black Maserati pulled up, and Killian Jones quickly popped out of the back, striding toward him, it suddenly felt as if everything was going to be ok. And when he wrapped Henry up in a warm hug, rubbing his back, murmuring “I’m here now lad, it’s going to be alright,” Henry couldn’t help the sobs of just sheer relief that violently shook him as someone held him and offered words of comfort.

It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate Mary Margaret and David, but they both tended to look on the bright side, and he had often heard them sort of brush aside his mom’s concerns with phrases like “Oh, don’t worry about it! I am sure you just need find the good in all this!!” And right now, Henry didn’t need a speech about hope, he needed someone to tell him that he wasn’t alone and that it wasn’t his responsibility to worry about the solution.

So as he clung to Killian Jones, personal hero and the only person who seemed to be able to offer Henry the exact kind of comfort he needed in his fear, borrowing his strength, he couldn’t help the thought.

_Is this what having a father is like?_


	5. Chapter 5

            The first sense that Emma registered was the _annoying as fuck_ beeping. It seemed that more irritated she got with it, the faster it beeped as if just to spite her. She sucked in a breath of irritation, and suddenly her second sense kicked in. And my oh my did her olfactory receptors regret it. It smelled like disinfectant, old people, plastic, linoleum, and BO.

            She wrinkled her nose in distaste and registered there was something not just taped to her lip, _but sticking up into her nose._

            Her eyes flew open, taking in a dark large ballast light and a series of holey ceiling tiles. She turned her head in confusion, again feeling the tugging on her upper lip. Her focus zeroed in on getting whatever was on her face _off_ of it, and so she brought her arm up to pull at it, wondering if Henry had suddenly jumped feet first into teenage pranksterism.

            But as her hand came into view, her two middle fingers splinted together and a huge scrap running up the outside of her arm, things began to slide into place.

            _“Hello, there sweetheart, what’s an angel like you doing in a shithole like this?”_

_“The fuck is wrong with you lady?”_

_“You fucking bitch!”_

_A gunshot. A crack. Another shot. Then she was falling._

_“She waking up!”_

_“She’s still hemorrhaging!”_

_“Alert the ER for immediate surgery.”_

_Her body going numb._

_“She’s awake!”_

_“Give her another dose, put her back under!”_

_“Blood pressure dropping!”_

_White lights shining down on her. Shadows moving back and forth in her periphery._

_“Mom?”  
            “MOM!”_

            She jerked upright, barely even registering the lancing pain that stabbed through her abdomen, ripping what she gathered was an oxygen line off her face, frantic to see if her son was here. And sure enough, he was laying across the lap of a man who had a leather jacket thrown over his face.

            She smiled, relieved that Henry had managed to get a hold of David and that David had brought him and stayed with him. But her sudden movement was catching up to her, and she slumped back, feeling the pain much more sharply, gasping slightly.

            The sound seemed to have woken Henry, because a moment later, she heard him shift and call out softly, “Mom?”

            She turned her head to take in his bleary eyes with a smile, his hair sticking up on one side and drool shining on his cheek. David was going to have a huge wet spot on his pants come morning.

            “Hey, kid.”

            She blinked in shock at how awful she sounded, but Henry didn’t seem to notice as he carefully stood and walked over. She managed to push herself over slightly, then patted the bed next to her.

            Henry eyed the bed warily, “You sure?”

            Emma understood his hesitation, but she assured him quietly, “Yeah kid, I’m sure. I need it.”

            And just like that, his hesitation vanished, and he carefully clambered up onto the bed next to her. She managed to wrap her arm around his shoulders as he carefully snuggled into her side.

            The room was quiet for a few breaths before she heard him whisper, his voice broken, “What happened Mom? I thought… I thought you-”

            “Sssh Henry, it's alright,” she crooned quietly, running her fingers through his hair like she did when he was an infant, soothing him through the long nights. “I’m ok. I’m going to be ok.”

            Then she heard his quiet sniffles and her heart clenched in her chest.

            “You promised me. You promised me you would be ok. You said that you would always come home. You promised me you would.”

            She could hear the fear through his brittle, angry words, and she felt tears well up in her own eyes as she listened to her son cry.

            “I’m sorry Henry. I’m so sorry.”

            A few tears rolled down her cheeks as she awkwardly twisted her head to place a tender kiss to Henry’s head. “I’m so sorry.”

            When she woke next, she could hear quiet whispering and a heavy pressure on her side. Her stomach was killing her, and that annoying beeping was _still there._

            She slowly opened her eyes to take in her softly illuminated room, before looking down. A soft smile slipped onto her lips as she took in her son’s sleeping form, his angelic face peaceful and calm in his rest. She combed his hair away from his face, watching him shift a little more deeply into her side.

            Then a quiet “Emma!” drew her attention away from her son to the two figures standing at the base of the bed. Her best friend and his wife were standing there with worried smiles on their faces.

            “Hey guys,” she rasped out, before clearing her throat slightly. “Been here long?”

            Mary Margaret walked up quietly, “No we haven’t. Visiting hours just started. How are you feeling?”

            Something about that didn’t sit right with her, but she couldn’t figure out what it was so she let it go in favor of answering the question. Emma couldn’t help rolling her eyes, “Like I got shot.”

            David stepped up behind his wife, “Emma, what happened?”

            Carefully checking to make sure Henry was still asleep, she told her friends what had happened.

_She walked into the bar with her head held high, with not even the barest flutter of nerves bothering her. This was about as routine as her job got. She knew her skip was already in the bar, so all she had to do was show off enough thigh to catch his attention. And sure enough, halfway through her first drink, the sleazebag sidled up next to her._

_“Hello, there sweetheart, what’s an angel like you doing in a shithole like this?”_

_She gave him a coy smile. Game._

_“Well, maybe I’m just looking for someone to escort me out of it,” she simpered, batting her eyelids just the way she knew they liked it. His little eyes lit up with malice. Set._

_“Well, how ‘bout I help you out with that?” Match._

_“Sure! That sounds like a fantastic idea.” She stood up and made sure to wobble a bit on her heels, giving him an excuse to wrap his greasy arm around her waist while he breathed in her ear._

_“Don’t worry little lady, I gotcha.”_

_“My hero,” she managed to get out through gritted teeth._

_And just as she expected, he slowly guided her to the alley next to the bar, crowding her so that she couldn’t really see where he was taking her. And once they were out of sight of the street, she lost her patience._

_She ripped his arm off her and shoved him hard into the brick wall behind him._

_“The fuck is wrong with you lady?” he snarled._

_“Oh, there’s nothing wrong with me. You, on the other hand, skipping bail and making your son pay it while you go pick up chicks….. What’s wrong with you?”_

_“You fucking bitch!” Out of nowhere, a small handgun appeared, pointing straight at her. She reacted quickly enough to keep the shot from being lethal, but she could still feel her internal organs being rearranged from the shot._

_But she pushed through the agony and managed to ignore the pain and deliver a heavy hit to his outstretched arm, relishing the crack as his elbow dislocated and he dropped his hand with a scream. With only a one-handed grip, she managed to get her hands around the grip of the gun, and with a quick pivot and elbow to his face, she managed to wrestle it from his grasp._

_But the twist had flared up the agony of the wound, and she lost her focus for just a moment. Long enough for the man to recover and lash out with a fast kick to her stomach, connecting solidly with the wound. And it was only through years of training and instinct that as she began to black out, she was able to fire off a single shot toward her man before the world slid sideways._

David huffed angrily, “How many times have I told you that you need back up when you do jobs like this, Emma!”

But something stirred at his shout. She quickly glanced down at Henry to soothe him back into sleep, but confusion washed over her when she saw that her son had not stirred, but the shuffling was still continuing. Mildly alarmed, she glanced around the room.

And her eyes landed on the figure from the night before, in the same position, leather jacket thrown over his face, a drool spot on his jeans, beginning to stir.

“Wait,” said Emma quietly, before she turned to look back at David and Mary Margaret, who both looked equally as confused. “David, if you’re there, then who’s that?”

But the man answered the question himself when he sat forward, and the jacket slid off his face to reveal the heavily bruised, bleary-eyed, and tousle-haired figure of the one and only, Killian Jones.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't hate me, I do actually know what I am doing.

            She froze as she took in the man sitting there, hands tightening around her son, despite the increased pressure on her abdomen. _What in the ever loving fuck was Killian Fucking Jones doing in her fucking hospital room?_

_With a drool spot on his jeans from where he let Henry sleep so peacefully in his lap._

She stared at him as his tired eyes stared back. And they just stared. And that stupid fucking beeping….

            _He has circles under his eyes._

“Who are you?”

            The question broke the silence like a gunshot, severing the weird staring contest she was having with him from her hospital bed as they both turned to look at David, standing with his arms crossed tightly over his chest and brow furrowed deeply.

             And the only thing Emma could think was, “David, you look like a scowling teddy bear.”

             A snort and shaking from her side had her looking down to see Henry looking up at her with blurry eyes and a smile on his face.

_Wait did I say that out loud?_

            “Good to see you are as blunt as ever mom.”

            She couldn’t help her smile, even as she lightly rolled her eyes, “Morning to you too Henry.”

            “Morning mom,” he said quietly, the smile on his face slowly sliding off. Then he turned to look at the rest of the room, “Morning Mary Margaret, David.”

            Both gave him soft smiles and for a moment David’s tense posture relaxed, but then Henry continued, “Morning Kil. Thanks again for staying.”

            And with those words, the focus snapped back to the intruder, who awkwardly held up his hand in a half wave.

            “Morning lad,” he answered quietly, then his eyes focused on her. “I am glad to see you are doing alright lass. You’ll be up and swinging again in no time, I’m sure.” His lips twitched in a slight smile.

            At his words, two things occurred to her at once.

_Wow,_ _his voice is even sexier than on the show._

            And….

            “Wait do you really not actually have a hand?”

            “Emma!” Mary Margaret’s voice rang sternly as she felt Henry flinch back.

            “Mom!”

_Did I say_ _that out loud too?_

            Killian’s eyes widened slightly as he dropped his eyes to his hand, real fingers massaging the fake wrist beneath his coat. “Uh aye, I actually used it as a prop when I first auditioned for the role. Probably the reason I got the part, to be quite honest.”

            Emma blinked, not entirely sure what to do with that information. However, it slipped to the back of her mind when David cleared his throat loudly, drawing attention back to him.

            “So, exactly who are you?”

            His voice had fallen squarely into interrogation mode, and Killian seemed to sense it, because he finally stood up, dropping the jacket on the seat behind him to offer his hand to David.

            “Killian Jones,” he said in a soft voice, a smile trying to work its way across his lips. “And you must be David and Mary Margaret. Henry’s told me a lot about you.”

            David was in the middle of shaking Killian’s hand, Mary Margaret standing behind David’s shoulder with a curious smile, when his words registered with Emma, somehow snapping her out of the weird fog she had been in since she had woken up.

            “WAIT WHAT THE FUCK?” David and Mary Margaret both whipped toward Emma, while at the same time Killian winced, dropping his hand back to his side.

            “Emma?” Mary Margaret asked in a concerned voice, but Emma paid her no mind, hand clenching on the sheets as the urge to punch Killian _fucking_ Jones in the face… again.

            “WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN ‘TALKED ABOUT YOU’? YOU HAVE BEEN TALKING TO MY SON WITHOUT MY PERMISSION YOU SICK FU-”

            “MOM!”

            Henry was sitting up, staring at her face in something akin to horror. Her seething anger calmed slightly at the reproach in his face, but she could not stop the tide.

            “Henry Swan, explain yourself! You know better than talk to strangers, especially one-han-”

            “SHUT UP MOM!”

            And she did. She was so shocked that she could not even respond to her son. Her son who was now twisting off the bed with a furious huff, angry tears in his eyes, forehead furrowed deeply in a frown.

_He’s too young to have worry lines._

            “He isn’t a stranger! He’s literally the only person in my whole life that has cared more about making sure that I am ok rather than making sure I’m learning a lesson. He made a promise that he would be there is I needed him. And he kept that promise. YOU? YOU PROMISED ME YOU WOULD ALWAYS BE OK THAT YOU WOULD ALWAYS COME HOME!!! AND YOU LIED! YOU LIED TO ME! WHY DON’T YOU EXPLAIN YOURSELF? WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS PUTTING YOURSELF IN DANGER? WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS LEAVING ME BEHIND? WHY CAN’T YOU JUST BE A NORMAL MOM SO I DON’T GET TEASED AT SCHOOL OR HAVE TO WORRY WHEN YOU AREN’T THERE TO PICK ME UP???? ITS BECAUSE YOU DON’T LOVE ME RIGHT? WELL, YOU KNOW WHAT, I HATE YOU! I WISH THAT I HAD ANY OTHER MOTHER OTHER THAN YOU!!!!”

            And then he turned and stomped out of the door, slamming it loudly behind him. Silence fell as Emma stared at the now closed door, still rattling slightly in its frame.

            “Emma?” Mary Margaret quietly whispered.

            Emma felt as if she was hearing her voice from across a huge void, not making sense at first. When the words did finally register, she could only think one thing.

            “Um, can you two go check and make sure that he’s ok? And take him home or whatever if that’s what he wants.”

            “Sure, Emma, we’ll go.”

            And in a moment she should have appreciated more, her best friend and his wife left without a single argument, closing the door softly behind them.

            And then it was just her and… _him._

            “Are you cold, love?”

            She understood the sequence of his words, but their meaning escaped her. “What?”

            “Are you cold? You’re shaking.”

            She looked down at her hands, which she realized were gripping her blanket as tightly as she could, given two of them were in a splint. And sure enough, they were shaking. She furrowed her brows, trying to force them still.

_Henry hates me. And it’s all my fault. He hates me. I should never have kept him. I don’t deserve to have a family. I don’t deserve to have someone as wonderful as him. He deserves better than a broken jailbird. He’ll never come back. My son hates me. Everybody leaves._

_Everybody leaves._

            “Swan?”

            She thought she heard her name. But she thought she heard an ever-quickening beeping as well. She must have been imagining things.

            “Swan. Emma, love you need to breathe. You need to calm down. Please.”

            “What’s going on?” She was imagining a female’s voice now.

            “I don’t know. She just started to freeze up and shake, and then her heart rate just tripled.”

            “Alright please try and keep her calm while I get her some sedatives.”

            “Yes, ma’am.”Then she thought that maybe something settled next to her on her bed. “Swan, love I need to you to breathe. Please love you need to take deeper breaths….. I’m going to grab your hand alright? Easy love.”

            She felt something warm and coarse slide over her fingers, wrapping them in a gentle grip before a light tugging brought her palm in contact with something warm and solid, moving slowly up and down under her hand.

            “Just follow my breathing love, just like that. That’s it, love. Just like that. Just breathe. There you go. It’ll be alright. You are going to be alright.”

            She felt as if she was sliding backward.

            “Your son will always love you, I promise.”

            And then there was darkness.

 


	7. Chapter 7

Killian sat on the edge of Emma’s bed, still pressing her hand to his chest, as the nurse finished checking the various monitors, before she turned to him.

“Can you tell me what caused the episode?”

Killian looked up at her in surprise, gently placing Emma’s hand back down on the bed, “Um, she had a bit of a shock. But you said episode? What do you mean?”

The nurse- her name tag said Kirsten- raised an eyebrow, “She had an anxiety induced episode.”

“She had a panic attack?”

Kirsten nodded, frowning at him. “Yes sir. She had a very severe anxiety attack. That’s why I gave her the mild sedative, to help calm her down. According to her charts, she has had them on and off for years, and is extremely susceptible to them while under the effects of the anesthesia. Her file says that she’s actually had them the last couple of times she’s been hospitalized, although there is nothing on file about the cause of them. There doesn’t seem to a definable stimulus. It also says that despite several recommendations to see a specialist about the episodes, she had not attempted to do so. I am surprised you don’t know this though sir.”

Killian had been so distracted by the revelation that the entire time she’d been awake, Emma Swan had been doped out of her mind, and that she suffered from panic attacks, just like him, that he almost missed the last bit of what the nurse had said.

“Wait, why would you be surprised?”

The nurse shrugged, making final notes to her clipboard before making her way to the door, “As her significant other, it’s kind of important to share this kind of medical information.”

Killian’s strangled noise of protest went unheard as the nurse stepped out the doorway. He looked after her, almost ready to jump up and correct her for her assumption, but he reminded himself that there was a reason the nurse thought that.

_ Henry was curled up against him in a position that was probably highly illegal given they were in a moving car, but Killian didn’t care, allowing Henry to cling to him like a barnacle.  _

_ Regina, who had been spitting poorly disguised barbs at him about trying to get into another woman’s pants, had fallen mysteriously silent the moment Henry had come into view. Glancing up at her in the rear view mirror, he caught Regina’s soft look at the boy. _

_ When her eyes flicked up to meet his, instead of a sneer, she raised an eyebrow and gave him a small nod, telling him without words where she stood.  _

_ He managed to keep Henry calm through the ride. But as the hospital complex came into sight, he felt Henry’s breath catch and his body begin to shake again.  _

_ “It’ll be alright lad. Just…” he fumbled for something to say. An old line from the show popped into his head, and with nothing better to say, continued, “Remember, lad, ‘The only way to stay afloat in a storm-” _

_ “-is for the crew to stay at their posts,” Henry finished for him quietly. Killian couldn’t help but smile, especially when he felt Henry take a deep, shuddering breath, nodding against his side. Then he sat up, a calm and determined expression settling over his features, making him seem far older than he was. _

_ “Right. A captain is only a captain if he can weather any storm.” Henry recited the words sternly, the line one of the first Killian’s character had ever said, as if the words carried the truth of the universe. Killian again felt that gut wrenching sense of guilt and responsibility as he again heard his words leaving Henry’s mouth.  _

_ “Just so lad, just so.” _

_ Moments later, the car pulled to a stop outside the hospital’s emergency exit. But before either of them could exit, Regina turned slightly in her seat, rummaging in her purse as she spoke. _

_ “Henry, I want to give you my card. If you ever need anything, and you can’t get a hold of Jones, don’t hesitate to call me, alright?” _

_ Killian watch in amazement at Regina offered out a card she had pulled out from her purse. Regina hadn’t given him her cell number until three months into their contract, and that was only because he had taken to not answering her office number, so she had called from her cell so he wouldn’t recognize the number. But Regina wasn’t finished surprising him, because then she met his eye again. _

_ “And Jones- you let me know when you are ready to come home, and I’ll come get you, ok?” _

_ Killian nodded, before opening up the door, helping Henry out after him. Before he shut the door behind him, he bent down to stick his head back in, “Thank you, Ms. Mills.” He never used her last name, but he wanted her to understand just how grateful he was.  _

_ And he thought she may have understood, because she answered him softly, “Of course, Killian.” _

_ He gave a soft smile to her through her window as he shut the door, before turning back to Henry. “Shall we then?” _

_ Henry nodded and took the lead, marching through the automatic sliding doors like he was preparing for war. The Emergency Room waiting room was loud and crowded, but Henry pushed through the crowds like a seasoned linebacker. He got up to the nurse’s station, and when he wasn’t immediately noticed by the man standing there, cleared his throat loudly and said, “Excuse me, I am trying to find my mom.” _

_ The nurse, realizing he had missed the three foot tall person, leaned forward slightly to see Henry over the edge of the desk. “Ok, can I have her name?” _

_ “Emma Swan.” _

_ “Hold on just one moment please.” Killian watched Henry clench his hands, his little jaw fluttering as he grit his teeth in impatience. The move was so remanicint of his acting choices for Hook, that Killian almost smiled. But then the nurse hit one last button and looked up, his brow creased slightly in anxiety. _

_ The news was not good. _

_ “You mother was just admitted for emergency surgery. She’ll be on the sixth floor. You can go to the nurse’s station up there, and they’ll page someone to come explain the situation.” _

_ Killian felt a cold trickle of fear run down his back, but quickly stepped up to lay his hand on Henry’s shoulder, feeling the slight tremors even through the fabric of his sweatshirt. The lad didn’t seem able to answer the nurse, so Killian quietly thanked him before guiding the boy to the elevator. _

_ Henry seemed to be in a state of shock, eyes glazed and his breath coming in short pants, Killian kept his grip firmly on his shoulder to reassure Henry that he was there.  _

_ They both stayed silent on the ride up to the sixth floor, so the sudden flurry of noise when the doors opened was a shock. He felt Henry's legs lock up as the boy got overwhelmed, and Killian realized that it was his turn to take the lead.  _

_ He stepped up beside him, keeping his arm wrapped around Henry’s shoulders, before walking slowly toward the nurses station, waiting for the woman there to get off the phone. Once she was free, Killian put on his best smile and most charming attitude. The nurse looked back with an unimpressed expression that made his smile feel a bit awkward on his face. _

_ “How can I help you?” she asked, eyes flicking back down to her computer screen as she waited.  _

_ “Uh, aye, we are trying to find some information about Emma Swan? She was brought in with a gunshot wound?” _

_ That seemed to catch the nurse’s attention, because the next moment her full focus was on his face and the blank expression was gone, replaced by one of sympathy. _

_ “Oh yes,” she paused, seeming to be bracing herself for something, “If you’ll just go to the waiting room around the corner, I’ll page the doctor to have someone come and explain the situation as soon as they are able.” _

_ “What’s the problem?” _

_ The nurse shook her head, “I’m so sorry but you’ll have to wait for the doctor.” _

_ Killian nodded, feeling Henry shift closer to his side, his hand coming up to clench at the fabric of Killian’s shirt again. _

_ Together, they made their way to the waiting room, Killian doing his best to shove aside the memories of another hospital and the nightmares that were haunted by the smell of disinfectant and the sound of heart rate monitors.  _

_ As he guided Henry into one of the chairs, he did his best to find something to distract the boy with, but came up short.  _

_ “Killian?” Henry whispered. Killian dropped down to kneel in front of Henry so they were at eye level. _

_ “Aye, lad?” _

_ Henry looked up with terrified eyes, “Tell me my mom is going to be ok. Just tell me that she’s going to be fine. That I’m going to see her smile again.” _

_ Killian winced internally, but gave his answer anyway, “Henry…” he started softly, “I will not lie to you, no matter how much I’d like to. I cannot promise you that your mother will be ok- it’s beyond my control.” He saw the fear begin to rise in Henry and quickly continued on. “But I can promise that I will be by your side for as long as you’ll have me. I won’t go anywhere, and if there is anything that I can do to help you or your mother, I will. That I can promise.” _

_ Henry took a shuddering breath, looking at him with awe before throwing himself into Killian’s arms for another hug. Killian saw this one coming and opened his arms to catch the boy, rocking back on his heels as Henry clung to him once again. He could not fathom Henry having to do this on his own.  _

_ “I don’t want my mom to die,” Henry whimpered. Killian closed his eyes, cradling the back of Henry's head as he felt tears on his shoulder again. _

_ “Aye lad, neither do I.” _

_ The two spent the next hour in an uneasy sort of haze. It was clear that Henry was doing his very best to keep from conjuring visions of what could be, while beside him, Killian was doing his best to dispel the visions of what was.  _

_ Finally, a man in a white jacket stepped through the door. “The family of Emma Swan?” he called softly. It took both Henry and Killian a moment to emerge from the mental haze they had been sitting in, but in the next moment they both stood before the doctor, waiting. _

_ The man looked them over, before repeating, “Are you the family of Emma Swan?” _

_ Henry spoke up, “Yeah, I’m her son.” _

_ The doctor nodded looking down at his clipboard, before looking up to cast a skeptical glance over Killian. “And you are?” _

_ Killian knew that the doctor would only speak to family and he didn’t want to leave Henry’s side, so he braced himself to say what he needed to to keep his promise to the boy. But before the words could leave his mouth, Henry was answering the doctor with a hard tone. _

_ “He’s my mom’s boyfriend. They haven’t been dating long but he’s as much family as I am.” _

_ The doctor looked like he was going to argue, but Henry cut him off, and in that moment, Killian could have sworn that there was a man standing in Henry's place, “My mom could be dying for all we know and you are going to stand here and argue semantics over something that doesn’t concern you. He has permission from her closest family member to be present, and as an underage person, I require a chaperone, so he’ll be staying. Now- my mother?” _

_ Both men looked down at Henry in surprise, before the doctor seemed to recover himself, “If you say so. Emma Swan was brought in with a gunshot wound to her lower abdomen. The bullet passed cleanly through her body. However by the time she arrived she had lost a massive amount of blood. She regained consciousness briefly in the ambulance, but during transport they were not able to stop her hemorrhaging.” _

_ Killian stepped up to Henry, pulling the lad into his arms while they listened to the horror story unfold. _

_ “She was brought in for surgery. We managed to stop the bleeding, but the anesthesia wore off before we were through and she ended up waking up during surgery. However we were able to put her back under fairly quickly. When she wakes, she’ll be extremely groggy, until at least tomorrow.” _

_ But both he and Henry reacted to the one word they both wanted to hear- “when she wakes.”  _

_ “My mom’s going to be ok?” asked Henry quietly.  _

_ The doctor seemed to realize that his audience didn’t want any details, because he gave Henry a soft smile, “Yes, you mom is going to be just fine. She’ll have to stay for a couple of days, just to make sure there are no further complications, but your mom will be back home soon. Her room is right this way.” _

_ With that the doctor turned and led them down a hall and around a corner before stepping into a room. Killian stepped all the way into the room, but when he noticed that Henry wasn’t following, he turned to look. The boy was staring at his mother’s prone form. The silence that descended as he watched a son see his unconscious mother was a sound he didn’t think he would ever forget. _

_ “Mom?” the question was almost unsure. But then the dam broke and Henry sprinted up to her bedside, “Mom!”  _

_ Killian stepped forward, concerned that he might forget himself and jostle his mother, but Henry pulled up short and reverently gripped his mother’s hand. Killian’s gut clenched as the memory of doing something similar at his brother’s bedside surfaced. He grit his teeth to dispel the ghost of his brother’s bruised and bloodied face, before coming over to Henry. _

_ Emma looked so different laying in her hospital bed, an oxygen tube running across her face. Her skin was sallow and her eye sockets looked bruised. But even in the hospital bed, he could see her fierceness shining through. Her face, rather than being relaxed under the influence of the drugs in her system, was scrunched up, her brow furrowed, as if trying to fight her way back to consciousness. And Henry next to her, his brow mirroring his mother’s in an attempt not to cry again.  _

_ What a pair the two of them made. The strength of their bond was one for the storybooks. Killian couldn’t help but envy the little family before him, broken as it was.  _

_ Henry spent an hour or so sitting by his mother’s side, until Killian noted that his head was beginning to dip.  _

_ “Come lad, let’s try and get some rest. The doctor said she wouldn’t be up for a while.” _

_ Henry agreed, and they both settled down for what they had hoped would be a joyful reunion. _

Killian remembered waking in the middle of the night to note that Henry was no longer with him, and when he had pulled the jacket off his face, he had seen mother and son curled up together like puppies. 

And now Henry had run off to who knew where and Emma was sedated. Now that the nurse had left and he was somewhat awake, something occurred to him- Emma had never noticed that he didn’t have a hand. That thought settled warmly in his chest, despite the rather tactless revelation Swan had graced him with. Although, considering his first interactions with her, perhaps it was just in keeping with her personality.

The thought made him chuckle.

“So you’re Killian Jones?”

He jerked to his feet, turning to the door to see Mary Margaret standing there with an apologetic look on her face. 

“Um, aye, yeah.” He wasn’t really sure what to say, given the last few minutes. 

She seemed to sense that, “Uh, I just wanted to apologize. For Emma. And Henry. And my husband.”

“It’s not-”

“I mean we really aren’t usually such a mess, but David was out on call and couldn’t answer his phone, and I forgot mine at home this morning. Emma usually has more tact than that, and Henry is honestly really well behaved, and I love your TV show.”

She finished her monologue in a huff and Killian was slightly taken aback.

“Oh, um, well I am glad that you like it. Um, and don’t worry bout Emma and Henry, I know them… enough.”

He had been hoping to skip past his little half-truth without lingering on the fact that he had only really known Henry for a little bit of time, and he had known Emma even less.

But Mary Margaret seemed to catch that, because she stepped forward slightly, tilting her head to the side, “Yeah, about that. How do you actually know them?” 

He winced slightly, rubbing at the skin behind his ear, “Erm, we met at a convention a while ago.” He hoped she wouldn’t press any further, but she seemed to know he was holding something back.

“Oh?” she said, clearly indicating she wanted him to continue. 

He winced, not sure if he was withholding the information because he didn’t want Mary Margaret to disapprove of her friend, or if it was to save his pride. 

“She wouldn’t have anything to do with the faded bruises on your face would she?” she continued with a knowing smile.

“Er, yeah actually. She punched me in the face. Twice.”

It was Mary Margaret’s turn to wince, “God, I am sorry. Emma can be a bit…. aggressive sometimes.”

That got a small smile out of him, “Aye, I noticed. Especially when her lad is involved.”

“I’ve told her before that she need to rel-”

He cut her off, “No,” he insisted. “That is exactly as it should be. Children deserve to have parents who will protect them.”

He couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice, despite the years that had passed. He thought that wound had long since scarred over.

Mary Margaret seemed slightly taken aback by his tone, but gave him a warm smile, “Yeah, you’re right. Emma is one of the best mothers that I know. Henry is lucky to have her. And he knows that. He’s just-”

“Aye, I know. He’s scared, and relieved. That makes people angry. I know better than most. You say things that preyed on you while you waited for them to wake up, and as soon as they leave your mouth you regret it.”

Mary Margaret looked at him, “You sound like you are familiar with his situation.”

Killian blushed, scratching behind his ear again. “Aye, it was a few years ago now, but my brother, he was in the Royal Navy, and there was an accident. Or that’s what they said anyway. It put him in a coma for three weeks. And um, after he’d woken up, I ah…. well he raised me see, and …”

“You were scared and relieved.” She offered the words softly, without judgement. He was immensely grateful that she didn’t ask him to repeat what he’d said. Liam had forgiven him the moment it had left his mouth, but he still punished himself for the words he’d used against the most important person in his life.

“Aye, that I was.”

“Did you believe it when you said it though?”

The hoarse whisper had both turning quickly to the bed to see Emma’s eyes half open, watching them with a hazy expression. Killian’s stomach dropped, wondering just how long she’d been awake. Or if she would remember anything when the drugs wore off.

“Did you believe it?” she repeated, when he didn’t answer her right away. He could hear an urgency in her voice that was emphasized by the slight jump in her heart rate monitor.

He looked her in the eye, knowing that she needed the truth, no matter how much the memory pained him. “No, I didn’t believe it. Liam had frightened me, hurt me by scaring me, and I just wanted him to feel the same. I used the words that I knew would cut deepest. And there is not a day that goes by that I do not regret the words I said.”

He watched as she closed her eyes, a shudder going through her. When a single tear leaked out from her eye, he made to go to her, unable to watch her cry. But Mary Margaret was faster, and she was on the bed consoling Emma in moments.

It took a few shuddering breaths for Emma to compose herself, but when she did, she opened her eyes to meet his gaze. “Thank you. For bringing Henry and watching over him when I couldn’t. I’m sorry I said what I did. It’s just… he’s all I have.”

He felt a warmth blossom in his chest at her stumbling words. But he could see that she was fading fast. “Ssh,” he hushed her, moving to the other side of her bed, “I understand. I know that you just wanted to protect Henry. But you need to rest now love. Sleep, and your boy will be here when you wake.”

She sucked in a breath, managing to move her hand to grab his arm, just above his brace, her grip surprisingly firm given she could barely keep her eyes open. “He’ll be here?”

“Aye Swan, he will.”

“Do you promise?”

He sucked in a breath, feeling Mary Margaret’s eyes on him as he answered her, gently pulling her hand away, “Aye Swan, I promise. He’ll be right by your side when you wake.” He moved to gentle brush her brow, not sure if he was crossing a line, but wanting to smooth the furrow there. “I’ll stay right by his side to make sure.”

At his touch, her whole frame slowly relaxed, the lines in her forehead smoothing out. “Good. That’s good,” she mumbled, before she slipped into unconsciousness. He tried not to think she said that because she knew that he was going to stay. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey All! Thank you to everyone who's stuck with me this far!! I just wanted to let you know that I'll be going on a break for a little while. I Promise it's not forever!!! Just with my new job and adult stuff, I find that free time is now sleep-while-you-can time. SO I won't be posting for a while, but I'll still be working on my fics!! Depending on how things go, I'll be back in a few months time!!!! You all are so wonderful!


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